


5 Times Reporter Woke Up with Company

by Impala_Chick



Series: GenKill Bingo [3]
Category: Generation Kill
Genre: 5 Times, F/M, Implied Nate/Brad, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 17:30:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15611367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Chick/pseuds/Impala_Chick
Summary: For the prompt: Reporter + Morning.





	5 Times Reporter Woke Up with Company

01.

It started while he was still in Iraq. The nightmares. The days started to run together and he totally lost all semblance of a normal sleeping pattern, and it became more and more difficult to fall asleep. He had finally drifted off that evening, jammed into the backseat of the humvee, when a loud bang off in the distance shook the vehicle. His body tossed and turned, and he felt more than saw a huge wall of waves crash into his body over and over again. But he couldn’t escape the water, no matter where he ran. There was no one to call out for. He felt helpless and alone.

Until a pair of strong hands shook him awake.

“Reporter! Man, I’ve been shouting at you for like 10 minutes. You seriously need to keep it together.”

Ray was standing outside the humvee looking down at him with his eyebrows raised, clearly concerned. Evan sat up, confused and disoriented. The humvee door was flung open, and he could see Trombley and Colbert peering over Ray’s shoulder at him. Even though it was dark, he could see their grim expressions.

“Why, what was I doing?” 

“You were shouting, saying we were all going to drown.”

Shit. 

“I’m sorry everyone,” he mumbled.

He was more embarrassed than anything, but he couldn’t fall back asleep until the pinks and oranges of the rising sun broke over the desert.

02.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Ray shouted, very near his ranger grave. 

“Shut up, Ray,” he heard Colbert mumble from the ranger grave next to his. Evan blinked awake and looked up at Ray, who was smiling like they weren’t in Iraq anymore. 

“Dude, what the fuck is making you so happy this morning?” Colbert asked as sat up on his elbows. Evan tried to keep his eyes closed just a little bit longer. He hoped that they didn’t have anywhere to be and Ray was just fucking with them.

“A certain LT wants to have a word with you. Right now.” Evan cracked an eye open at the mention of Fick, and he could see Ray practically vibrating with excitement as he looked at Brad, his eyes shining.

“Are you sure?” Brad asked. He was already up and out of his sleeping bag, though. He rolled it up and stuffed it in its bag quickly, and then started to run his hand through his hair and smooth it down. Huh.

“Yeah, man. Gunny told me and I told you immediately this time. So go make papa proud!” Ray clapped his hands gleefully.

“Really, Ray? You’re scaring reporter when you talk like that.” Brad stalked past Ray with a scowl and took off towards the LT’s humvee. 

“What was that about?” Evan looked at Ray as he sat up. Ray leaned in like he was about to tell him a secret and smiled conspiratorially.

“Dude, Brad and the LT have this tension thing going on. It’s like a soap opera. The only entertainment in this desert,” Ray stage-whispered. 

“Ah, I see.” Evan had noticed the occasional glance or long conversation, but their relationship was even more interesting now that he knew that Ray noticed something special. He was tempted to go walk over to where Brad and Nate were meeting, to casually eavesdrop. But the temptation of more sleep was too strong to pass up.

03\. 

“Man, aren’t you glad we saved all the good MREs for this morning?” Trombley said solemnly as he leaned over and punched Evan gently on the shoulder.

Hasser looked over at him and shook his head slightly, like Evan should not bother getting any follow-up information for that statement. Evan had just woken up and climbed down from the humvee, and the desert sun was already beating down on all of them. Evan rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and then let his journalistic curiosity take over.

“What’s so special about this morning?” He asked. 

“This morning is the first day after my first kill. I’m a real Marine now,” Trombley said proudly. 

“Trombley, you dumbass idiot. You don’t even know if you killed anybody yesterday,” Ray needled as he walked over. Evidently he had gone to take a piss, because he was zipping up his fly. 

“Like fuck I do. I saw him go down,” Trombley quickly answered, affronted. 

“Okay, psycho.” Ray looked over at Hasser and rolled his eyes. Hasser let a small smile tug at his lips before he schooled his expression. 

Evan didn’t know what to say, so he took out his notebook instead.

04.

He yawned and stretched, but felt relieved that he didn’t have to get off of his cot yet. There were no sounds in camp, save the occasional boisterous laugh from an exuberant Marine outside, or a snore from a marine still asleep in the bunk room he was in. Baghdad was much… calmer than he expected it to be.

He’s not sure what he was expecting, because he hadn’t thought about the end point much. His job was to take each moment as it was, and record it for later analysis. But now that he had reached the end of the road, at the end of the mission, he felt hollow. 

He rolled over and pulled the scratchy cotton sheet up over his shoulder. He had only slept for a maybe five hours, and a few more hours of sleep might help improve his morose mood. 

Besides, the Marines probably wanted some time to themselves to unwind and talk to each other without thinking about a reporter listening in. They had endured his presence easily enough, but sometimes he felt them looking at him, wondering what he was writing.

He rolled over again, and tried to imagine what it would be like to go home. He wondered what it would be like to sleep in his own bed. He couldn’t remember what it felt like.

05.

When he got home, he wasn’t sure what do with his gear. The gear he had purchased in preparation for Iraq. So he kind of just stacked it in a corner of his bedroom, hoping it would go away on its own. 

But one morning, weeks later, he woke up to his girlfriend staring him. She was smiling softly, the sunlight from the bedroom window lighting up her face.

“You beat me awake?” He breathed, surprised. He looked around, just to make sure he wasn't in the desert. Sometimes, when he was just at the edge of wakefulness, he felt like he was still sleeping on the ground, by the Humvee. Hell, he still expected Ray to wake him up with a shout or a kick to the foot.

“I did. And you didn’t even wake up once last night, did you?” She asked gently. He knew that he had been waking her up at odd hours since he’d been back, tossing and turning or talking in his sleep. 

But she was right. Last night, he hadn’t done any of those things. 

“I guess not,” he answered. He smiled wide, and brushed the hair out of her face. She leaned over to give him a chaste kiss on the mouth.

“Maybe it’s time to throw away all that stuff you’ve got stacked in the corner,” she mused. He quickly shook his head. He wasn’t quite ready. 

“Not yet. But did I ever tell you what happened to that picture of you that I took with me?” He asked, eyebrow raised. He hadn’t told her much about Iraq before, but for some reason, looking at her in his bed, he was reminded of that photograph.

“Oh, this better be good,” she said as she looked over at him, amused. He started to laugh. 

“You have no idea,” he said with a mischievous grin.

That was the first morning since coming back where he actually started to feel like he was home.


End file.
